Roads To Nowhere
by MiladyGirl
Summary: Morgan and Blake get lost in the middle of nowhere. Eventual Morgan/Blake pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

I struggled with the case chapter of Old Wounds the other day and felt I needed a distraction, but didn't want to stray from the fandom (if I do, it usually gets even harder to get back into it). Also, I felt like playing with the combination Blake and Morgan because, uh… I felt like it. I WAS just going to make it a one-shot, but if my muse has a say (and she does), it seems like it will end up becoming a two-shot, if anyone is interested in reading more.

Also, is there a shipname for these two? Because if not, I shall call them Derex. Hehe, that sounds like a dinosaur. Or a medication.

Okay, moving on!

* * *

"This is not a road," Alex Blake stated in a very indifferent voice. She had been quiet for at least half an hour, correctly assuming that backseat (or passenger seat) driving Derek Morgan was not a good idea.

"What do you mean it's not a road? It's even paved."

 _Last time it was paved was probably_ years _before I was born,_ Blake thought and rolled her eyes. Which would be some time in the late fifties or early sixties. Since then, this strip of road had obviously fallen into neglect and was now cracked and crumbled. In some parts even big chunks of the pavement had been eaten away by weather and time.

"There was a tree growing in the middle of said pavement about a mile ago, did you notice?"

"It wasn't a tree, Blake, it was a twig."

"I know you're a city kid, but twigs are not attached to the ground with roots."

"Hey, don't lecture me on nature, you're not exactly a countryside girl yourself," Morgan replied and then added; "It was _tiny_."

"It was still a tree. A European white birch, also known as silver birch, to be exact. It's considered an invasive species here in Wisconsin."

Morgan groaned.

"You _seriously_ need to spend less time with Reid."

Blake had no response to his comment, so she merely put her sunglasses back on and resumed staring out the window at the winding road and the endless fields. She had a slowly building headache and this was the main reason she was annoyed right now, much more so than she could blame on Morgan's apparent determination to get lost on the way to the crime scene.

"Hey. Talk to me Blake, what's troubling you?"

"Your navigation skills, or rather lack of them," Blake snapped.

" _My_ navigation skills? I'm just driving. _You're_ supposed to be the navigator."

"I'm serious," Blake replied. "Where _are_ we?"

Morgan gave her a side-glance and was close to deliver a sarcastic reply, but realised that she asked an honest (and valid) question.

"Given that our GPS decided to break down two hours ago, I actually have no idea," he admitted. Blake's lips pursed in disapproval, but she decided not to comment on their added misfortune, and opened the glove compartment.

"What are you looking for?" Morgan asked.

"I'm looking for the maps. You know, the physical, foldable, actually existing maps."

"We don't have those anymore."

She turned disbelieving brown eyes in his direction.

"You're kidding me."

"Nope," he replied and shook his head to emphasise his point. "GPS and our tablets and cell phones are supposed to cut it. Old school stuff was removed about a year ago."

"Wow. So the Bureau doesn't believe wireless devices ever break down?"

"Apparently not."

She clenched her jaws for a moment.

"What was the last landmark we passed?"

"Um… a red barn?" He snorted laughter when he caught glimpse of her facial expression and said; "I'm actually glad there are no maps in there, otherwise you'd swat me in the back of the head with one right now."

"Look at that, you're a mind reader," Blake replied dryly. "The last village we passed was, uh…" she searched her memory, which wasn't as unfaltering as Spencer Reid's, but still rather impressive, and eventually came up with it; "Moneyborn."

"Moneyborn? Really? That sounds like a Conservative Congressman."

This time Blake did swat him at one swelling bicep with the back of her hand, but she was smiling a little.

"On behalf of the people in Moneyborn," she said. "All three of them."

"Hey, I never said there was anything wrong with being a Conservative Congressman."

"Not in so many words, but I know your view on Conservatives _and_ Congress, so I made an educated guess. Back on the topic of Moneyborn, which was the last place I recall from the map," Blake said pointedly. "We passed that place almost an hour ago and we've been going in a pretty straight line heading North-East."

"I don't have the slightest clue," Morgan said, thinking that included her political views. Almost six months of working together was usually enough to find that out, but when it came to Blake, he was still none the wiser. "Check Google maps."

"Oh come on, you don't think I would have done that already if I could get online?"

"There's no connection?"

"Right you are," she said, barely holding back a sarcastic "Hot Stuff" á Garcia. Not that Morgan wasn't hot stuff - if he got any hotter she'd have to have a heat shield just to sit next to him - but she wasn't one to talk like that.

"Man, we _are lost_ , aren't we?" Morgan said, sounding so utterly surprised she had to fake a cough to conceal the fact that she laughed.

"Finally we're on the same page," she replied. "Just, turn around and go back."

" _How_? There's barely enough room to go straight ahead on this road."

He was right. On both sides were deep ditches before vast and seemingly unkempt fields took over - but then again, what did Blake know about fields? Maybe they were perfectly well-kempt from a farmer's perspective. However, something about this entire place felt off, somehow. Even the sun had gone into hiding, and the day had taken on a depressing, surreal gloom. The daylight was an eerie, almost physically nauseating, yellowish grey. Maybe a thunderstorm was brewing among the clouds, that would explain her headache.

"Okay, fine. As soon as we get to somewhere we _can_ turn around, let's do it," Blake said, raising both hands slightly as if saying she didn't want to argue. When she did, he noticed something that had escaped him until now.

"You're not wearing your wedding band."

Blake shook her head.

"No, I'm not."

"Is there a particular reason for that?"

"There is." She shrugged. "I'm not married anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, well, I'm a difficult woman to love."

"I doubt it."

She looked up and gave him a brief smile that didn't reach all the way to her eyes.

"Sweet but untrue. You find me puzzling at best, insufferable at worst."

"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. It's not that I don't like you, Blake, I do. But _you_ don't seem to like _anyone_. The only person you speak to about things that aren't case-related is Reid. I get it, that's your comfort zone. What I don't get is why you still, after almost six months on the team, is too scared to step out of it. Are _we_ doing something wrong?"

"No," she replied. "No, you're not doing anything wrong. I'm just a linguist who cannot communicate properly, the responsibility lies with me. And the faults."

Morgan scoffed.

"Self-pity doesn't become you. I think you can communicate just fine, but that you're afraid of becoming personal. The question is, what are you afraid _of_?"

"Betrayal." The answer came so quickly she seemed surprised herself, but then she nodded as if agreeing. "If I trust someone, they betray me."

"I see why you feel that way, but you know that's not true, right?"

"Truth is subjective."

"Okay, _this_ is where you start to get difficult to be around," he said, but his voice was gentle. "When you've decided on something, you just turn a blind eye to everything else. You have decided that everyone is out to get you - except possibly Reid - so you don't let anyone too close, which leaves you feeling empty and shut out."

He was right, and she resented that.

"Are you done?"

"No, not this time. This needs to be brought to the surface once and for all. I know why you have trust issues, believe me, I do. Strauss is…"

"…manipulative," Blake filled in with a bitter laugh.

"Not the word I was going for, but I guess it'll do."

"I used to love her, you know," Blake said. She had donned her sunglasses again, in spite of the gloomy day. He could tell why from the harsh thickness of her voice - she was trying not to cry. He hoped she would succeed, not for his sake, but for her own.

"Love her?"

"Oh, you have no idea how that woman could wind me up. She had me wrapped around her finger. Sometimes almost literally."

"Whoa, thank you, that's a bit more personal than I bargained for," Morgan said, in the hopes of coaxing a smile from her. He didn't.

"I guess part of her cutting my rope during Amerithrax was to make sure I couldn't tell anyone about our affair. If I did, it would seem like I was just trying to get back at her for ruining my career. Nobody would have believed me. I did try and bring it up with the boss one step higher in the hierarchy, but he warned me that if I so much as breathed a word about that, they'd have me fired from the Bureau. Defamation of character. Erin would deny everything I said."

Morgan gave a low whistle. It made sense now. It wasn't just a Straussian betrayal used as a stepping stone to power, it was on a much more personal level. No wonder Blake was closed-off.

"I shouldn't have told you this," Blake mumbled and turned away.

"Yes, you should have. And sooner. Have you told _anyone_ about this before?"

Blake sighed.

"No."

"And your husband?"

"He knew I was smitten with Erin - you didn't have to be a profiler to notice that, I was over the moon - but as far as he knew, she was unaware of my feelings. And he didn't really take it seriously. I think he chalked it up to a case of hero worshipping. Erin was a big thing back then. On the shortlist of becoming a new Department Chief at Quantico."

"I didn't know that."

"Well…" she cleared her throat. "It took a toll on her career as well. She wasn't demoted, like I was, but it ensured that she wouldn't be _promoted_."

She fell silent and looked out the window, seemingly deep in thought.

"You've kept that bottled up for a long time," Morgan said and touched her shoulder. At first she went rigid at his touch, as if she thought he was going to hurt her or make fun of her, but then she relaxed. The comfort he offered was much welcome. She hadn't known just how much she had missed something as simple as a gentle touch. The fact that the man providing it looked like a Greek God wasn't a bad thing either.

"Yeah," she exhaled.

"Feeling any better letting it out?"

"Actually, I do."

"That's good." He caught her eye and smiled at her. And Blake realised something deeply unsettling.

She wanted him.

Badly.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

I'm sorry I left you hanging; I was struck with a case of poor self-confidence because oh God. I don't know why I keep thinking I can write hetero stuff, it's so hard! Then I thought about abandoning it, and then I thought, gee, that's comforting, when I run into difficulties with one fic, I temporarily abandon it for another fic that I can't sort out either. What kind of a writer does that? Not one who ever wants to be taken seriously, that's for sure. Not that this is either good or serious, but you know… :P

Also, while the previous chapter was heavily dialogue-based, this part will be more narrative. I don't know why that happened. I guess they didn't feel too chatty.

Thank you everyone for your sweet and funny reviews (Derex - condom brand - I _love_ it!) and PMs. And an extra shout-out to those who's been inspired to write more Blake fics; I love you guys!

Okay, let's do this.

* * *

For about five minutes they drove in complete silence, both preoccupied with their own thoughts. Morgan pondered his newfound admiration for the woman next to him - keeping both an affair with the boss _and_ a divorce secret from the best profilers in the world took some skills, but those skills also took a toll on the person who possessed them. No wonder Blake was a private person, with those secrets to keep.

Blake on the other hand thought about how strange it was that she'd open up to Morgan, of all people. When she first started on the team she had more or less dismissed him as a boyish tough guy who liked to joke around but had no substance. Now she had to reconsider her profile, and she hadn't had to do that in a long time. It was difficult. She didn't like to see herself as a prejudiced person, but over time she had to admit that it had gotten way too easy to just smack a label on other people and dismiss them rather than having to deal with yourself and why you labelled others. So this bitter, closed-off cynic who apparently gave the impression that she didn't like anyone, was what had become of the idealistic, hardworking and deeply empathetic young woman who had once joined the Bureau. That was just sad, and she decided right away to pull herself together and work on making a different impression on the people around her.

Morgan interrupted her train of thought.

"This road never ends," he said. "If the ditches weren't so deep I would drive into the field and turn the car around there."

The fields, that gave her an idea.

"Stop the car."

"Why?"

"Just stop the car."

"You do enjoy telling people what to do, right?" he said, but his tone was soft, and Blake was immediately reminded of her decision to try and make peace rather than creating tension and conflict.

"Sorry. I was just thinking, if I go into the open field I might get a cell phone signal."

"That's actually not a bad idea," he said and hit the brakes.

Blake cocked her head to the side.

" _Actually_ not a bad idea? Are my ideas usually bad?"

This was her being playful, as playful as she dared to get anyway, and he picked up on that and responded in an equally playful manner.

"I wouldn't know, you don't usually share them with me."

She let out a quick laugh as she yanked the door open and stepped outside. The air was so humid and hot, almost sticky, she immediately began to sweat. Although her jacket was still in the car - the wonderfully air-conditioned car - and her sleeves were rolled up, she was still unpleasantly warm. She unbuttoned another two buttons of her flimsy dark blue blouse, but that didn't do anything to cool her off. It probably wouldn't help to keep standing near her hot colleague either, she thought and crossed the ditch in with less than elegant jump - high heels weren't very practical out here, but it wasn't like she had _planned_ on venturing into some third rate parkour - and continued out into the open field with her eyes glued to the phone. A slow but loud rumble rolled across the sky and she sent a brief glance upwards before looking back at the device in her hand. So there _was_ a thunderstorm going on. That might well explain her odd mood. She was extremely sensitive to the weather.

* * *

Back up at the road, Morgan too had gotten out, wincing at the humid heat as he did. He leaned back against the car with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Blake wandering around in the tall grass. Unbidden, his mind kept serving him images of her in bed with Erin Strauss and he felt a sudden yet powerful pang of jealousy that he tried to push away along with those inappropriate images. Blake was probably not interested in another workplace romance again, not after what happened the last time. Unfortunately, that didn't keep his dirty mind from wondering what she was like in bed. The soft, slightly husky quality of her voice made him wonder if she was a screamer or a moaner. He wondered what it would feel like to put his hand into one of the pack pockets of her tight jeans and cup her ass.

"Aw, man."

He shook his head at his own imagination, then stared up at the threatening skies in an attempt to stop his thoughts in their tracks, before they got him into trouble.

When he turned his stare back towards the fields, his colleague was nowhere to be seen.

"Blake!" he called out and didn't wait for an answer; he just leapt across the ditch and ran into the field in the direction he had last seen her. The tall grass whipped against his legs as the thunder muttered again. He barely had time to stop before he fell on top of her. She was on her hands and knees on the ground, and he immediately hunkered down.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I just stumbled on something," she replied. "But I dropped the phone and now I can't find it, so watch your step." She blew her hair out of her face and sighed; "God, I'm hot."

He was staring down her cleavage - not on purpose, but she _was_ on all fours and her blouse wasn't buttoned all the way up - and couldn't agree more with her statement. If he didn't get his thoughts under control soon she would notice the inevitable evidence of his interest.

More thunder let itself be heard, this time crashing rather than muttering, and the clouds almost seemed to hold their breath for a moment before the first drops of rain started to fall. Its coldness came as a shock to Morgan's overheated skin.

"Shit," he said. "Come on, we've gotta get back to the car before we get soaked."

She didn't reply, she just kept looking for the phone. The rain increased, whispering as it hit the grass around them.

"God damnit Blake," he began, but she interrupted him.

"There it is. Okay." She stood and looked around as if she hadn't noticed the rain until now. Thunder roared again, much louder this time. They both jumped a little at the sudden sound.

"I may be a city kid, but even I know it's a bad idea to stand in the middle of an open field during a thunderstorm," Morgan said and put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on. The barn is closer," he continued, and his free hand pointed in the direction of a barn that looked about as abandoned as anything else out here. Blake nodded in agreement and the two laughably mismatched agents made a beeline through the hip-tall grass, as cold rain poured down in a suspicious attempt to drown them.

* * *

The barn was full of hay, and the dusty air was thick with the sweet, musty scent. It mixed surprisingly well with Blake's expensive perfume, and Morgan took a couple of steps away from her before more inappropriate mental images of her presented themselves in his mind. When he thought he had put a decent distance between them he made the mistake of turning around and looking at her.

She was right in the middle of combing her wet hair back from her face with both hands, and as she did, her wet blouse smeared against her body, leaving her unintentionally showing off every curve and line of her torso. He tried to look away, but his eyes were fixated on her beautifully rounded breasts. Her nipples were clearly visible through the fabric, and this was the final straw for him; he was starting to get an erection. Blake caught his eye and he must have had an odd look on his face because she said, in a genuinely innocent voice;

"What?"

"Nothing, I…"

Her eyes wandered down and widened slightly in surprise. He knew that she saw his physical arousal, and that was probably not a good thing.

"I'm sorry," he said, feeling his face heat. "I, uh," he hadn't been embarrassed by an erection since he was in high school. "Can't help it."

"As shocking as it may sound, I have seen men with an erection before," Blake replied, trying and failing to keep her facial features in check. She smiled, a smile that couldn't quite decide whether to be amused or smug, but regardless of its nature, it took years off her face. She had been surprised, to say the least, but she recovered quickly.

Instead of approaching her, taking advantage of the situation even the slightest, Morgan turned his back to her and headed for the door. Blake's smile gave way for a frown. She was both disappointed and concerned.

"You're not going back out there, are you?"

"I'm just gonna cool myself down."

She licked her lips as she weighed the pros and cons of giving in to her attraction, and then decided that she didn't care what happened next. If he was to reject her, she knew now that it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with him being responsible. She hoped he wasn't going to be _too_ responsible. She took the leap.

"Derek, what I think you _should_ do, is come over here and help me get out of these wet clothes."

"So here you are, telling me what to do again," he said, trying to find his normal light, joking tone, but wasn't sure if he did. He was way too shook-up by how quickly things could escalate. Blake smiled again.

"Actually, I'm _asking_. But I'm not in the habit of begging," she said and walked towards him slowly, almost catlike. "Though if you need me to, I will. Once. Please Derek, will you have sex with me, right here, right now?"

He _might_ have been able to tell her no if it hadn't been for the look in her eyes. She was every bit as aroused as he was, if not more. So instead of going outside, he turned back to her. He chuckled, and as he did, his embarrassment was melting away, soon to be replaced by his usual easygoing confidence.

"That would be my pleasure."

"Mmm," she said and put a hand on his shoulder. "But I fear the pleasure will be all mine."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Let's find out," he said and kissed her. He didn't want to admit that he had fantasised about kissing her before (although he had), but actually doing it was even better. She was one hell of a kisser and once she had shed her initial strictness she didn't seem to be shy or withdrawn at all.

He touched her neck with a steady hand and felt her rapid pulse as hot blood rushed through her veins. So Blake was _not_ cold after all, not unfeeling; she was shivering on the brink of her self-control and he wanted to see her lose it. No. He wanted to _feel_ her lose it. Preferably with her legs wrapped around him. The thought forced him to pull back a little lest he'd lose control first. Blake shot him a frustrated glare, as if she believed he was having second thoughts.

"Easy," he said breathlessly. "Or this will be over sooner than either of us want it to."

"Oh," she replied and licked her lips. "Sorry. It's been a while."

"Mhm," he hummed and ran his hand down her side, feeling her body heat through the soaked blouse. "How do you like it, Alex? Slow and gentle…?"

She whimpered. There was almost pain in that sound, as if he was torturing her by suggesting they would take their time. He was only teasing; he wouldn't have been able to drag this out for very long even if he wanted to.

He kissed her again, sneaking his hands around her waist and down into her back pockets. She was every bit as firm to the touch as he had imagined.

She put her arms around his neck and pressed herself against the swelling below his belt. Oh, how she wanted to feel him inside her. She pulled his soggy T-shirt over his head and he reluctantly had to remove his hands from her pockets to get out of it.

As the coldness of the downpour was met by their rising body heat, trails of steam rose from their bodies as they moved, and for some reason this made the whole thing seem surreal, like something out of a movie you watched once while having a high fever.

He unbuttoned her blouse, then opened it and revealed a lace bra.

"Oh, I _like_ that," he said.

"Surprised?" she exhaled and traced her fingers down his muscular stomach.

"A little."

So was she, to be honest. Usually she settled for simpler, more comfortable underwear when she was working, but for some reason, be it fate or luck, she had decided to wear something sexy today.

There was a washed-out rug in one of the corners, or perhaps it was a horse blanket, but whatever its main purpose it looked clean enough, and Morgan carelessly threw it onto the pile of hay before picking her up, carrying her a few steps, and putting her down on it. As slender as she was, he was still surprised by how little she weighed. But she was strong. Very strong, indeed. She pulled him down on top of her with so much force he would have had to struggle to pull free… if he had wanted to, of course. Which he didn't.

"Fuck me," she whispered in his ear.

"You keep telling me what to do," he remarked.

"I'm sorry. Will you _please_ f-"

She didn't get any further before he began to fill her, and the rest of her words drowned in a moaning sigh of intense pleasure. As he steadied himself on both hands against the hay under them and thrust his hips forward, Blake came in the fastest orgasm of her entire sexual history. If she had been a one-orgasm-girl that would have been more than a little disappointing, but she wasn't, so this was a good thing. Now that her immediate need had been satisfied she could focus on playing the game for a while, driving her lover crazy with her techniques and building up to a hopefully mutual orgasm. That she was good at. Making her lovers come with her.

Morgan had never considered experience to make such a vast difference. It wasn't like he usually had sex with virgins, but a lot of his previous dates had a tendency to expect him to do all the work. They could be seductive as hell before getting into bed, but once they were _in_ bed they had already played their cards and became quite uninspired… and uninspiring. Blake on the other hand wasn't what you'd consider a temptress in any way, but damn, she knew what she was doing and she did it well. Not once but twice when she sensed he was on the verge, she held back, slowed down, and prolonged the act until he was in a state of near-agonising pleasure.

He might have held out maybe another minute if Blake hadn't moaned;

"I'm coming… please come with me," and her breath was hot against his neck, her lips swollen and wet from kissing and biting. The look on her face was a perfect mirror of how he felt - a powder keg of pleasure so immense it bordered on torture - but it was her voice that was the match that set off the explosion. Breathy, husky, thick with raw emotion.

He did come with her, in a powerful, exhausting climax that shook both their bodies to the core, before collapsing together in a sweaty heap. Blake, still wrapped around him with both arms and legs, enjoyed the weight of a well-sculptured, handsome man on top of her, but he did press her deeper into the hay. The blanket had slid down during the activities and the hay scratched against her naked back, leaving tiny cuts and scratches on her previously flawless skin. She hadn't even noticed it while they were in the throes of passion.

"Ow," she muttered when she couldn't take it any longer. Morgan immediately rolled off her and gave her a worried look.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, it's the hay. Ow, damnit."

She struggled to sit up, which wasn't easy. She was aching all over, though in the most pleasant of ways. Morgan helped her, with a smug smile plastered on his handsome face, and handed her her clothes before he started to dress himself.

"I guess it's a good thing they left the blanket."

"Tell that to my back, it was never on the blanket," Blake replied and winced as she put on her bra. "Could you take a look?"

Morgan gently ran his fingertips down her spine, causing her to shiver.

"I'm looking at it right now. Do you want me to take a look at your front too?"

"Nice try, big guy, but I'm too out of breath to get naughty again right now," she laughed and slapped his hand away. He laughed too.

"You have some hay cuts on your shoulder blades, and a mild rash around those cuts, but that's all. If you had told me it hurt we could have switched places."

"Oh Derek, don't get me all worked up again," she replied, but her eyes gleamed as if she very much wanted him to get her worked up again. "We should probably get going before anyone finds us in this compromising position."

"You might be right about that," he said and buckled his belt. Blake looked around for her cell phone, which had accidentally slid out of her pocket and was on the ground next to the hay. When she picked it up she noticed two things. One was that there was a signal here. A vague and wavering one, but still. The other…

"Oh, no," she mouthed as a chilly sensation of horror spread throughout her body and a deep blush climbed up her neck and into her face. "Please no…" She tapped the phone a couple of times and swallowed hard. "Oh God. It… dialled Hotch's number. And there is a twenty seconds long call made. Oh my God."

"You're not telling me Hotch listened to us having sex?" Morgan said. "Please tell me that's not what you're telling me."

Blake's phone went off in her hand and for a moment she was frozen, unable to answer the incoming call, but eventually she forced herself to.

"Blake."

"You and Morgan are the luckiest agents on this team, not because of what you just did, but because Hotch forgot his phone so I was the one who picked it up," Rossi's very amused voice spoke in her ear. "If you have finished your urgent business by now, you're about a ten minute's drive from the crime scene, so I suggest you keep going."

"H-how… how do you know where we are…?" she stuttered.

"Alex, all of the FBI cars have tracking devices. I had Garcia check your position," he said, almost sighing the words. "Put your clothes on and keep going, and we'll never speak of this again."

"Right," she muttered and hung up. "The bad news are that someone did hear us. The good news are that it was Rossi."

Morgan visibly relaxed and threw his head back.

"Oh thank you God."

"We are also about ten minutes from the crime scene, so we're on the right road after all."

"I hate to tell you I told you so, but..."

Blake raised her eyebrows.

"I dare you to finish that sentence."

He shut his mouth. Not because he didn't dare, but because he thought he'd enjoy teasing her a little bit later.

* * *

Once they were both dressed again, and Blake had done what she could to tame her messy hair, Morgan opened the door. It had stopped raining, and the thunder had passed while they were busy relieving their own tension. The air felt several degrees cooler and much easier to breathe.

"Ladies first."

"So you can check out my ass, huh?" Blake replied. Morgan nodded with a very serious look on his face.

"Exactly."

"You're a very naughty boy, you know that."

"I didn't hear any complaints earlier."

She shook her head.

"That wasn't a complaint."

While he was struggling to find a response, she merely winked and walked past him through the door.

* * *

As they made their way back through the field, both wondered what would happen next. It was Morgan who finally broke the silence.

"Am I a rebound to you? Because if I am, that's fine, but…"

"I was hoping for a little bit more than that," Blake replied, dragging on her response. "But let's not hurry and give a lot of promises. I quite like living on my own, and I won't die if I never wear a wedding band again."

Morgan felt relieved. A woman after his own taste, and she had been right in front of him for half a year without him even realising.

"How's your back?" he asked as he noticed her trying to scratch at the hay cuts.

"Itchy. I want to retract my statement about promises. I want you to promise me one thing."

"What's that, beautiful?"

"Next time, we do it in a bed. With soft sheets. _Satin_ sheets, preferably."

He chuckled and put an arm loosely around her waist.

"Now _that_ is a deal I'm happy to make."

* * *

 **A/N**

Yeah, the characters weren't too chatty, but the author is. Sorry for butting in again. Just wanted to mention that you _do_ get pretty nasty cuts and scratches from hay (I know that first hand), so don't attempt to do the "sex in the hay" thing in real life. Also, no farmer would forgive you. And come on, don't fuck in the animals' food, guys! It's not a very nice thing to do.

That was my disclaimer. Yeah. This was a weird fic. O_o


End file.
